Aegyir Rises (Guardians of The Realm Book 1)

by Amanda Fleet

  “I should never have trusted the courts.”

  Finn tipped me so he could see my face. “Why? Stephen got put away and will never be able to have the dazzling career John thinks he should have had.”

  I grunted. John had thought that the pictures had been no more than ‘high jinks’. Silly teenage stuff. His darling boy could never be involved with blackmail or sharing explicit images. In John’s mind, Sarah was to blame for letting the pictures be taken.

  Except she hadn’t.

  Stephen had taken them without her knowledge, setting up his phone to record them while they made out, then cropping or blurring his face but not hers.

  I wormed closer to Finn, jittery. If Stephen got drunk and came here again, would I survive a second beating?

  4

  Lilja and I sat on the benches by the fountains, watching the different factions group and gossip. And plot, no doubt.

  “I’m getting married.”

  I turned to Lilja with a start. “Who? Penna?”

  Her finely drawn mouth lost some of its smile and she shook her head. “Unlike you, I’ve not been lucky enough to marry for love as well as position. My parents have said I’ve to marry Signar.”

  Signar was a Seer, like Lilja.

  “Penna would have been a better match,” I said, my heart sad for her.

  “Penna is a Guardian.” Her voice was clipped. Only Guardians could marry Guardians.

  “Sorry. I know how you feel about him.”

  “He would have been perfect.” She ground her teeth together. “But our children would be nothing. Not Guardian, not Seer.”

  I chewed this over. She was right. I had been lucky. Everyone in The Realm had their roles and restrictions and you rarely got to marry who you wanted.

  “I truly am sorry.” I squeezed her hand. “But Signar’s also a good man. Faran speaks very highly of him.”

  She laughed mirthlessly, flipping her light brown hair over her shoulder. “Signar is an excellent man. I’m sure we will have marvellous Seer children.”

  My gaze spun out over the gardens, raking the entrance to the knot-garden. I tried to imagine how it would have been for me if I’d not loved my husband before we were married. Or if Faran had been made to marry someone else. “When’s the wedding?”

  “Two months. Will you be my Matron of Honour?”

  “Of course! I’ll try to do a better job of it than my sister did for me!”

  The scene before us dissolved into black and she turned to me, her expression solemn as she grasped my hands. “You know he will be free. He will seek revenge.”

  I searched her face, my heart racing, my mouth dry. She pressed something small into my palm.

  “Blue for danger. Do not forget.”

  ***

  Peep peep peep peep peep peep peep peep.

  I woke with a groan. Finn had shifted in the night and his watch was now right next to my ear, the alarm deafening me. I jabbed him in the ribs and he rolled away.

  “When are we getting an alarm clock that sits on your side of the bed?” I grumbled.

  He silenced his watch. “You want a coffee bringing up or are you gonna go back to sleep?”

  “I’m going to go back to sleep.”

  “Okay. Sorry.”

  He kissed my forehead and there was a cold draft in the bed as he got out, followed by a soft scuffling sound as he gathered up everything he would need for work. I turned over and burrowed back under the covers.

  It was late morning by the time I woke again. I hadn’t meant to sleep in so long but my body obviously had other ideas and at least my sleep had been nightmare-free.

  I scooped the post up from the doormat as I passed the front door, sifting it into junk, mine and Finn’s, before tossing all the junk into the recycling box. Finn’s post looked like it would be junk once he opened it.

  In the kitchen, I switched the kettle on, craving coffee. I leaned my back against the sink, contemplating putting thicker socks on when my gaze snagged on something. A beautiful opalescent bead threaded on to three slim leather cords lay dead centre on the table. Delicate silver filigree knotwork encased the bead and caught the light. I picked the bracelet up and turned it round in my hands, frowning. Why hadn’t Finn given this to me yesterday? Maybe he’d left it as a surprise, though I’d have expected him to leave a note with it. I ducked to look under the table but nothing had fallen there. I put the bracelet back on the table. Why had he got me this? It wasn’t my birthday for a few weeks and we rarely had the money for surprises. I tore open the envelope addressed to me, still pondering the gift.

  My hands froze as I read over the letter inside.

  ***

  I was in the middle of making dinner when the thunk of Finn dropping his kit-bag in the hall met my ears. He joined me in the kitchen, leaning his elbows on my shoulders and his chin on my head. “Hey.”

  I twisted around so that he could kiss me. “Hey. Thank you for the bracelet.”

  He scrunched his face up. “Delighted as I am that you think I’ve bought you something, I haven’t. What bracelet?”

  “The one you left on the table.”

  “Not me. Maybe it’s from your hunk in the Realm.”

  I pressed my back against him making him step back, and reached across to the table to pick up the charm strung on leather cords I’d found that morning. The intricate patterns swirling around the bead looked alive as they caught the light.

  “This isn’t from you?”

  He took it from me and scrutinised it. “No. But it’s very you.”

  My stomach knotted. “So who’s it from? No one’s been here and it was on the table when I got up.”

  Alarm flashed through Finn’s eyes. “Was the door still locked?”

  I thought back. I couldn’t remember. But if he hadn’t left it for me, it couldn’t have been locked.

  “Maybe it’s from Lena?” he said, dubiously. “It’s very her, too.”

  Lena lived with Ösk in the first cottage in the row. We were good friends and when she came over, she usually banged the door and walked straight in if it was open. She was into Celtic knotwork and Norse mythology and when she wasn’t suited and booted for her job as an accountant, wore long tie-dye skirts and leather cuffs decorated with runes or knots. Maybe it was from her, though I’d have thought she’d have left a note with it if she’d come over before I was up.

  “Yeah. Maybe it’s from her. I’ll ask her.”

  Finn settled his arms around me, scanning the kitchen. “Okay, well, you like a bracelet that I wish I had got you. But what’s happened?”

  “Nothing’s happened. Why?”

  He tilted his head to one side. “Is there a pile of clean, dry, ironed clothes on the bed?”

  Rumbled. Christ, this man knew me too well. “Mm.”

  “And have you really washed the windows inside and out? And tidied? And hoovered?”

  “Mm…”

  “Okay, so I’ll ask you again. What’s happened? You’re not the one in this relationship with the tidy genes. You only do housework to take your mind off something worse. Feck. Is Stephen out early? Has he been here?”

  I held the letter I’d received out to show him. “No! I got an interview.”

  A slow smile sneaked across his face. “For your dream job?”

  My heart fluttered at the thought. Finn spun me around, hooting and hollering, almost clattering me into the table as he did so.

  “Hey! It’s only an interview. I haven’t actually got the job yet!”

  He put me down but kept his arms locked around me. I bit my lips. “I have so many holes in my portfolio.”

  “So fill them. What were you faffing about doing housework and ironing for when you could have been doing that?”

  Which was worse? To have the gaps, or to fill them and it not be good enough?

  “When’s the interview?” he said, leaning past me to stir the dinner that I’d forgotten was on the stove.

  “A week
today.”

  His eyes bored into me. “Why aren’t you happy? You’ve wanted a job like this since you left college. What’s wrong?”

  I rested my head against his shoulder. I wasn’t sure he’d understand. I didn’t think he’d ever wanted something so badly that breathing became difficult.

  “It’s too important. I’m going to screw it up. And not all of us have a fairy godfather.”

  “Watch it, or I’ll tell Billy you called him a fairy.”

  Billy. Mine and Finn’s boss. Good at spotting potential. Or at least good at spotting Finn and helping him after Finn’s father had disowned him. After he’d been thrown out of the family home, Finn had worked for Billy tidying up the gym and being a general dogsbody, while he sofa-surfed around his friends.

  “God, Finn, I really want this job.”

  He made a chuffing sound but said nothing for a moment. Perhaps he did understand.

  “Can I help? You need me to model for you?”

  I laughed. “Oh, if there’s one thing my portfolio is full off, it’s drawings of you. No, they’ve sent a brief and want me to take a set of designs based on it to the interview. But thank you.”

  “You know Billy’ll give you great references for the work you did on the gym logo and everything.”

  “Yeah. I think it might be that work that got me the interview.”

  When I was fresh out of college and desperately trying to get a job in graphic design, Billy commissioned me to redesign all the artwork for the gym for him. He also gave me a job on reception, despite all the war-paint and piercings and total lack of experience, so maybe he is my fairy godfather too.

  “Fancy a night run tonight?”

  Finn’s solution to most problems – run it out of your system; run to celebrate; run to think. He’d been converting me to the cause since we met, all those years ago when I was the new kid at school and he was my only friend.

  Running in the dark with Finn was gloriously liberating. Perhaps because it was also borderline terrifying. The dark was where the monsters lived. At least Stephen wasn’t due out for three days. Finn tickled my back, obviously wondering why I was hesitating.

  “Yes, if you know where my head-torch is and if it works, and only if it’s a shortish one,” I said, aware that he’d been working out all day one way or another and half expecting a sarcastic comment.

  “Yeah, I know where your torch is and some spare batteries. Three miles do you?”

  “Mm.” I caught his expression. “Oh shit. I forgot to define how fast.”

  “Yeah, one day you’ll learn.”

  I grimaced. Three miles to Finn was merely a short stroll which meant that the run would involve steep verticals. Then again, if I’d said easy pace, we’d have been running half the night.

  He squeezed me hard, snapping my brain back to the room. “You’ll be fine. You won’t screw it up. You were destined for that job.”

  I hoped he was right.

  ***

  My calves burned but Finn wasn’t going to slow one jot so if I didn’t keep up with him, I’d be on my own. When the hill finally levelled off and he stopped to wait for me, I leaned on my knees, hauling in my breath, my eyes fixed on the pool of light from my head-torch. Even when my breathing steadied, I didn’t straighten. Finn walked back to me, tipping his head so that the light from his torch joined mine. “You okay?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Liar.”

  “I’m fine. Just don’t leave me behind. It’s too dark.”

  His palm caressed my back. “Sorry. He’s not free yet and anyway, I won’t let him near you. You need to start moving again before you get chilled. Come on.”

  He ran his hand over my shoulder blades and down my arm to grab my hand, dragging me back into a gentle jog along the edge of the escarpment, next to the fence. Finn’s attention was divided fairly evenly between the path, me, and the landscape below, where the fracking company was exploring. I was glad it was too dark for Finn to see the mess they were making. He was edgy enough over Stephen without getting bent out of shape about that too.

  We turned and picked our way back down the hillside, into a light breeze. However much I hated running uphill, I hated running downhill even more. Finn had footing like a mountain goat and I called out to him not to leave me.

  “Rea, for the hundredth time, the best way to deal with scree is just to run with it. Accept your feet are gonna go from under you and keep going.”

  I skittered and slithered my way down, crashing into him when I reached the bottom and making him laugh.

  “Alright?” he said, blinding me briefly before dipping his head.

  I scowled. “Fine.”

  The thin path re-emerged after the scree slope, hugging the edge of the hill and following the line of a rocky outcrop. In the long summer evenings we would share a couple of beers and drink in the view from an area where the grass at the side of the path widened out. The rock face sprang up like a wall, rising vertically for several metres, its grey surface mottled with ancient lichen. If you turned left at the top instead of coming down the scree slope, you could see for miles but it was always whipped by the wind. Leaning against the rock face, it was sheltered and the view was more than good enough.

  We ran alongside the rock face until we drew level with a large boulder that dominated the ground. As we approached it, my scalp prickled and cold slithered down my back.

  “Do not let him in!”

  I blinked. The voice was familiar and I hunted through my brain, trying to locate whose it was.

  Lilja’s?

  My feet ground to a halt. Finn ran on for a few strides before coming back to me.

  “Rea? What’s up?”

  I couldn’t shake the feeling and closed my eyes, my hand reaching out for the rock face. As soon as I touched it, my brain filled with the sight and smell of blood. Swords whirled and slashed, wielded by men and women clad in leather. My eyes pinged open again. “The Realm.”

  “What?” Finn peered at me.

  My mouth opened and closed and my breathing snagged in my throat. “The Realm. It’s here.”

  I stepped back, snatching my hand away from the rock. The fear and anger and frustration that I’d felt only moments earlier were gone. As was any image of the Realm from my dreams.

  “Ignore me,” I said. “I just felt a bit weird. Come on. Let’s go home. I’m getting cold.”

  I started jogging away from the rock face. The further I got from it, the less the hairs stood up on the back of my neck. I glanced back a couple of times, but there was nothing there.

  “Race you back?” I said. There was no way I would win, but I needed to put distance between me and this place.

  Finn grinned at me. “If you insist.”

  He set off like a hare, but soon fell back, and stayed no more than five paces ahead. He still won, but he was never out of sight.

  Back at the cottage we both stretched out, before stripping in the kitchen and throwing our kit into the washing machine. Finn’s eyes drilled me.

  “Not a good time to do a night run after all? I thought it would help you decompress about the interview.”

  “It was great. It did stop me stressing about the interview. I guess I’m still stressing about Stephen though.”

  “Share the shower?”

  “Yeah if you’re still in it when I come up. I’ll get this lot on.”

  The shower wasn’t really big enough to share – it was a simple handset over the bath with a curtain that had a tendency to stick to your body. We shared the bath more than the shower and that was a snug fit. By the time I joined him in the bathroom, he was brushing his teeth, the room warm with steam. I showered quickly, brushed mine and joined him in bed.

  He leaned over and clicked the switch behind the headboard to put the night light on. It didn’t always help to chase away the nightmares, but at least it wasn’t pitch dark when I woke from them. A soft pinkish glow filled the space on my side of the bed, the light
catching the edge of the bead at my wrist. I fingered it, tracing the filigree.

  “Blue for danger. Remember.”

  I gasped, searching the room for who had just spoken, but there was no one there other than me and Finn. I touched the bead again.

  This wasn’t from Finn, and deep down I didn’t think it was from Lena, either. So who had left it on the table for me?

  5

  The bridge of my nose squelched into my face and blood poured from my nostrils. I tried to dodge the next blow but Stephen grabbed me by the hair and smashed my head into the edge of the table, chipping my tooth and splitting my lip. I crumpled on to the floor, spitting blood and he kicked me, flipping me over as if I were a doll. My breathing shuddered to a halt, pain burning in my chest and no air moving. The front door opened and roaring filled my ears.

  I sat up, gasping for air. I always woke at the same point in the nightmare – just as Stephen had broken my ribs, leaving me with a chest that wouldn’t inflate. The point where, five years ago, Finn had returned to find Stephen trying to kill me in a drunken rage after the police had interviewed him. Finn’s cottage – this cottage – had been my home and refuge, but Stephen had smashed the door down.

  I drew my knees up and wrapped my arms around them, glancing down at Finn’s inert form. A frown had chased across his face when I sat up but he seemed deeply asleep again now. I reached down and rested my hand on his shoulder.

  “Finn?”

  Nothing. I shook him lightly.

  “Finn?”

  Still nothing. Perhaps I should leave him to sleep. Except that I knew I wouldn’t get back off unless he’d reassured me. I shook his shoulder more violently and was rewarded with him opening his eyes and peering at me blearily.

  “Stephen dream?”

  I bunted into his shoulder. I could still smell the blood in my nose and feel the fear that I would never breathe properly again. Finn shifted until he was lying on his back with me across his chest, one hand against the small of my back, the other stroking my hair. “You’re safe.”